Bad Dream
by PandaFire McMango
Summary: A ficlet about Collins and Maureen. Rather strange and dark and I can't actually see its point myself, but I am angsty now and so I shall vent with the help of fanfiction. any requests for continuing or more CollinsMaureen can be sent in with reviews.


**A/N: **Random little ficlet here. Just a plot bunny that stems very heavily from Dreaming, by GorgeousSmile. She is the originator of this idea; I just hanged the circumstances and all that crap. But I GIVE FULL CREDIT TO HER, ALL YOU PEOPLE OUT THERE. SHE IS ABSOPOSITIVELY COOL AND HER FICS ARE FUNFULS. got it?

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"So what am I supposed to do? Pretend that you're not you and I'm not me? Am I supposed to forget every single time you've been there to kick my ass out of trouble and every single time I've been there for you? Is that what you want?" Maureen asked, her face shiny with tears. He shook his head slowly and refused to look at her.

"It's not…it doesn't have to be that. But what happened isn't something we can ignore, god damn it. I'm not the guy who does this, to you or to Angel. I'm not going to be the one who brings everything crashing down," he said, his voice husky. Maureen's ears were ringing, and she couldn't see. Instead, images leapt forward into the mind's eye…

_A dark room, swinging and tipping with the effects of vodka and late-night laughter._

_Him, so warm and full and solid, so wonderful against her, inside her._

_Clothes on the floor, heat and sweat and ecstasy from a person, the wrong person, the one person who she knew she'd never do this with, the one person with whom this wasn't just a crime, it was a death sentence and a sin all rolled into one._

_And guilt…warm and nauseating…eating at her…staring at him and realizing what they had done…what they had violated…and how nothing could fix it…_

His words brought her back to the present. She blinked, terrified that she'd heard right.

"Wh—what?"

"I'm so sorry…god, I'm so sorry," he said gruffly, still avoiding her gaze. Maureen had a sudden urge to just die, right then and there. This wasn't living; this was hell.

"But…you can't. You can't, I've known you longer, I've—I'm—NO!" Maureen wept, her hands reaching out to him in a plea for forgiveness, for love. But he just shook his head.

"It's killing me, Maureen, and you have no fucking idea how much. But when it comes to you or Angel, I just can't leave her. She's everything to me…I'm not…I can't gone on without her. She can't know what we did…it'd kill her. And I can't be around you, I can't _know_ you if I want to make sure she doesn't find out. I'm not a cheater, Maureen, and I won't do that to her. I'll miss you—but I have to make a choice." And with that, he turned and walked to the door, his back like a devil's pitchfork in her side. Maureen fell blindly to the floor, her legs too weak to hold her up. As the door opened and he stepped outside, Maureen choked his name one last time, one last cry for help that would never be answered.

"Collins…"

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"Maureen? You okay?"

Someone was shaking her. Wait…he'd come back for her! He wasn't abandoning her after all! Maureen sat up quickly, her eyes lifting up to search for his face in the darkness, her heart bursting with hope and joy—

And she saw Roger looking down at her with concern, a familiar ceiling framing his head. The loft…Roger…where was she?

"Jesus, leave Joanne alone for a night and get some sleep. You've been drifting off all day," he grumbled, rolling his eyes. Maureen felt hands gripping her forearms and all of a sudden, she was being pulled into a sitting position. Blearily, she looked around and saw the loft in all its comforting messiness. She must have been lying on the couch, since she could see the pattern on the cushions pressed in red skin on her arm. Mimi, Angel, and Mark were all grouped on the floor, arranged in a loose circle and each gripping a fan of playing cards. Maureen glanced over her shoulder and saw Collins and Joanne sitting at the table, their eyes riveted on two familiar books. Maureen's stomach twisted as she gazed at Collins, concentrating so hard on his book and so totally oblivious of the twisted little story that he had played such a large role in. But that was only a dream, Maureen reminded herself, breathing deeply. Only a bad, bad dream.

"Woke you up to see if you wanted to get dealt in. We're starting a new game," Roger said, gesturing at the three card players on the floor. Angel rolled her eyes and pressed her cards flat against her chest.

"I'll be lucky if I get through a single hand without Mimi scoping out my cards," she sighed dramatically. Mimi pouted.

"I do not!"

"Um…thanks, but I think I'll sit this one out," Maureen mumbled, pushing her hair back. Roger shrugged.

"Suit yourself. Mark, move your ass over," Roger commanded, returning to the game. Maureen rubbed her eyes and got off the couch, wandering over to the table where Joanne and Collins sat reading.

"Oh hey, honey bear!" Joanne exclaimed as Maureen slid into her lap. Maureen closed her eyes and let her head fall onto Joanne's shoulder. Joanne frowned and rubbed her waist. "Honey, are you okay?"

"She looks a little hung-over to me," Collins commented, glancing up from his book. "What exactly were you two doing last night?"

"Shut your mouth," Joanne said, grinning. Maureen only snuggled closer to her.

It had been a very, very, very bad dream.

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Ick. 


End file.
